


An Angel Disguised as Lust

by rivlee



Series: No Dominion [6]
Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-22
Updated: 2012-11-22
Packaged: 2017-11-19 06:07:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/570030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivlee/pseuds/rivlee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elill takes a moment for devotion. Post-<i>Vengeance</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Angel Disguised as Lust

**Author's Note:**

  * For [brandedwithfire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brandedwithfire/gifts).



> Title from _Because the Night_. A gift for brandedwithfireandtears.

They’d taken over a small city on the coast. It was a heady thing to see the fortifications fall under the power of Spartacus and his rebels. Elill wanted to rejoice like the rest but he was unsettled. It seemed like too much; too many people, too much power, it could only lead to bad things. He’d seen power like this change the most humble of creatures into raging megalomaniacs. Elill feared for what was to come in the future. He’d never wanted to flee this cause more.

It was some instinctual notion that led him here, among the columns of the abandoned temple. It was one of Magna Mater’s. He’d visited it on occasion in the past, seen it in the aftermaths of celebration, with scraps of brightly colored clothing strewn across its floor as the religious ecstasy overcame all. Now it stood cold and silent. 

Elill could feel a slight change to the wind then. He could hear it, the brief wisp of fabric against stone. 

“Duro,” he said, “do not worry. I’m not thinking of returning to the religious order.”

Duro leaned up to press a kiss to Elill’s cheek. “I wondered what took you so long to come here. You’ve stared at the temple each night before we’ve taken to our bed.”

Elill settled into the hold of Duro’s arms around his hips. “Wherever we go, I seem to be near her temples with you beside me.” He brushed a kiss across Duro’s forehead while his fingers ghosted over the old scar on his side. “Despite all my anger towards _her_ , I still say you, we, were meant to come together by the gods’ will.”

Duro didn’t reply to that and Elill never expected him to. He knew it unsettled Duro when Elill spoke such words. Duro didn’t give into religious observance. Elill would never attempt to change him. He loved Duro for his brash attitude and determination in believing he controlled his own destiny. He respected Duro for never truly disparaging the gods or Elill’s beliefs when he was in earshot. 

“I know it’s a Roman custom and Roman tradition here, but it’s a Phrygian goddess worshipped by people like me,” Elill said. He slipped out of Duro’s arms. “The least I can do is relight her flame.”

Duro followed him without question into the inner-sanctum. He stopped just at the threshold and waited. Elill turned and smiled at him, no words of gratitude needed to pass between them. The last time Elill had attended to such duties he stood at Solon’s side. He felt a world removed from that time. Even though his body went through the old motions of attendance his mind kept straying to the man patiently waiting on the threshold.

Elill never knew he could be this happy. It wasn’t always easy, or perfect. They were both stubborn and opinionated. Duro was still young, still believed he knew the best way to do everything. Elill had more years and more harsh memories that had worn his optimism and patience down. They still clashed over decisions in raising Iodocus. Duro was the one determined to keep the boy’s innocence. Elill didn’t have the heart to tell him Iodocus had already lost most of it. 

They were just starting to leave the winter. If they were still in Capua, Iodocus would be preparing to take part in the ritual to become a Galli. Elill’s fists involuntarily clenched as he thanked the gods for sparing that fate. 

He looked to Duro standing so still as he watched with rapt fascination. No, Duro didn’t observe rituals or hold to the gods here. He did watch Elill though, every movement of his body and word fallen from his lips. It was his own kind of devotion and it always brought out Elill’s mischievous side. 

Elill found the oil for the flame and a few packs of scented sachets. It’d been too long since he’d danced with that smell in the air. 

“Are you required for a meeting soon?” he asked.

Duro shook his head. “I’ve asked Kore to take over my watch. She seemed eager.”

“For time with Saxa, I’m sure,” Elill said. “It must be such a burden for her to take over your duties.”

Elill slid a crate of amphorae over to Duro. “Our visit proves fruitful. Good for the lamps, the armor, the skin, and the food.”

“How much olive oil do these temples use?” Duro asked. “This is more than our current stock.”

Elill laughed. “No one questions what castrated priests do with oil, Duro. They merely take the coins and hand over the product.”

He picked up the firestarter and quickly lit the wick of the main lamp. It took a moment for the fire to grow but soon it was large enough for Elill to throw the scented herbs into the flames. Duro was already bent over, picking up the case of oil, and Elill made sure to hide his smile.

He dropped his robe to the ground and tried not to laugh when Duro straightened up so quickly he almost fell into the wall.

“Do try not to break those vases before we’ve used their contents,” Elill said. He pulled off the tie holding his hair back and let it hang free down to his hips.

“Elill,” Duro breathed out on a sigh.

“Only just a moment longer, Duro. I am not yet finished with my devotions.”

It was wrong to tease Duro so, but oh, so very easy. Elill stretched his arms out and hid a grin at the groan that sounded behind him.

“You do this on purpose,” Duro said. 

Elill looked at him over his shoulder. Duro’s bottom lip was caught in between his teeth and Elill could see the tension set through his shoulders. Even so, he still refused to cross the threshold. 

“You are not forced to watch,” Elill said as he bent down to stretch out his legs.

“I really am,” Duro muttered. 

Elill went through the first set of steps following the beat in his head. “It is not quite the same without the bells or the drums,” he admitted aloud. He undulated his hips and moved to the next set of steps. “Does it still work this way?”

“What’s that,” Duro said with a voice gone harsh.

Elill knew there would be severe consequences if he dissolved into laughter now. He forced a concerned look onto his face though he feared it didn’t reach his eyes. Luckily Duro’s eyes were drawn much lower.

“The dance, does it work without the music,” he clarified. He glided over to Duro and stared down at him. “Well?”

Duro cleared his throat. “It, uh, yes. It works quite well.”

Elill pressed the fingers of one hand over Duro’s full lips while tugging him forward by the arm with his other. Finally he got him over the threshold and in here, where the air was heady with the smell of the oil, rose petals, and myrrh. It wasn’t Elill’s favorite combination of scents but with it carried on Duro’s skin, he could learn to adore every breath.

“We shouldn’t,” Duro protested even as his tangled his fingers in Elill’s hair.

“Shh,” Elill said. He licked across Duro’s abused bottom lip, soothing the earlier marks from his teeth. “Trust me when I say Cybele has witnessed much worse in her temples.” He tugged the buckles and claps of Duro’s armor open. “She would consider this a welcome sacrifice.”

No more protests were heard from Duro for the next hour.


End file.
